


Necessary

by The_Pseudonym



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 06:50:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8361760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Pseudonym/pseuds/The_Pseudonym
Summary: You know better than him, really. You're pretty sure you always will. You've started asking Mindfang to take her place on supply runs just so you can prove it, even though it's starting to become a bit of a problem as your movement gains more and more momentum.
Really, you can only hope to prove it before your war begins.





	

There's a certain way your spade needs to be fucked. He needs to be tied down with thick iron chords, spread eagle so he can't hide himself by curling over. He needs to have his head propped up, and you'd love to get a collar so he won't be able to turn his head away, he'll be forced to watch you the whole way though. And personally, you'd like him gagged, but that doesn't really work for what he needs.

Which is to be pushed to the brink. To be teased until he's sobbing, until tears are sliding down from the corners of his eyes, to have you suck at every inch of his skin and then pound him until he's arching and silent, straining at the chords and unable to even grind back against you. He needs to finish on that, and then he needs you to gently undo the chords, and rub his wrists. He needs to know that you're staying right there, that this isn't over just because you're pitch, even though you just did this for him.

He needs to know you're there because you want to be there for him, not just for yourself. He spends so much time alone with just his thoughts and his mechanical projects and it can't be healthy but you know from the few times you forced him out that he can't kill living creatures if his own life depends on it, and that there's no way he'd be welcome at your camp. The one and only time you'd offered out of sympathy he'd blinked and explained that he'd melted down his armor for a bit scrapped project a handful for decades ago, and that he wasn't willing to wear another set.

There's someone he talks to on trollian. You don't know them, you just know they depend on each other. You know they're close, maybe even quadranted, based on the way he dodges questions with snarls when you push him, which inevitably leads to challenges and then arguments and then, most of the time, makeouts, and by then you've forgotten about the stranger.

You wish he'd admit he needs you like that. You really do care about him, because even spades have to look out for each other sometimes. You hate him, really, but that's not the point when it comes to these things. You hate that he says he's changed but he turns away anyone seeking shelter that isn't you or Mindfang, and you hate how he hides what he knows from you (you know he has the Book of the Signless, why won't he give it to you? If anyone deserves it it's you) and you hate it when he pretends you don't know exactly what he needs, which is cuddling and making out and stroking after you've made him sob out of desperation.

Sometimes you think he'll kick you out a day early, or right after you drop off the tanks of propane and sacks of tubers. The way he looks at you, like you're someone naive that doesn't know what direction you're going in, makes your stomach twist into unpleasant knots. Like you don't know what's going through his head when he looks at you. He thinks you're a waste of time, and that he's a waste of yours.

How stupid.

It's why he needs to wake up next to you. It's why you need to eat with him, the only other troll who doesn't eat animals if he can help it. It's why he needs you to nap on his shoulder while he works, why he needs you to keep touching him no matter what, why he needs you to keep talking so he hears a voice that isn't his own for the first time in a perigee.

But you can't do that. He's old and stubborn and has no idea what he's doing anymore. As much as you'd like to do all that, to show him that you're right, you know what he needs, he does what he thinks is right.

He thinks the right thing is to take you hard and fast against a wall, because to give himself willingly would be a sign of weakness, and to ask would be giving in.

He thinks he needs to stay on top because admitting he likes to be ordered around by you would be the easy way out.

He thinks that spades have to pull at each other and pinch and shove and bite their way to completion or else it's vacillation, as if the most hateful thing you could do to him isn't make him need you.

He's a Highblood, and he's nearly a thousand sweeps at this point.

You're twenty three.

You wonder how he could be this stupid while you know so much better, while it's such a huge gap between you two.

You did it once, before. You tied him down and he pretended he didn't want it that way, he complained until you put your mouth on him and from there it was a battle not to moan. He held on to you afterwards and let you sleep on his shoulder, and while he made sarcastic comments during your stories of the most recent skirmishes he was smiling the whole way through. You'd thought he'd changed, that it would stay like this.

Perhaps you were just as naive as he seems to think.

The next time you came, two tanks and a sack of tubers and legumes slung over your shoulder, he was back to how he'd been before. Silent and not even snarling, just barking out words when you angered him and almost constantly barring his teeth.

Since then, you've done it the way he wanted. Brute force and taking and yanking and never giving in unless you absolutely have to, and even then resisting. You despise it. You loathe that this is the only way he'll allow anyone to get this close to him, and that Mindfang won't tell you how she managed to tame him to the point of smiling at the sight of her. Just the thought of getting him to that point with you is enough to make you pack up for the next visit, and maybe you're smearing your quadrants a little, but it's what he needs and besides a few arched eyebrows Mindfang has wished you nothing but good luck when it comes to breaking down every wall he's put up since his exile.

Whichever one of you is least exhausted afterward one of his type of sessions drags the other to a recuperation and drops them in, then trudging back to their separate one and sleeping cold and alone since the heaters stopped working five sweeps ago and he hasn't had the energy to fix them. Any attempts to talk the next day are shrugged off, and when you do eat cloth him it's in silence and probably something you dislike, even ic it doesn't have any meat.

It's another reason you hate him.

He never lets you fix him.

**Author's Note:**

> Reasons I don't publish fics.


End file.
